


Stars reflected by sunlight

by Being_Lionhearted



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Universe - Javert Survives, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hair Brushing, M/M, Montreuil-sur-Mer mentioned, Old Men In Love, Post-Seine, Toulon Era mentioned, kind of identity crisis due to hair length
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 15:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13527276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Being_Lionhearted/pseuds/Being_Lionhearted
Summary: My first Valvert fic based on a prompt I received on Tumblr : " Javert hair story pls. With cute rue plumet gardening and Javert wanting to cut it short to symbolise his change...only Valjean isn't too pleased by the idea"I added a lot more fluff and feelings about their past than necessary. But that's what usually happens as soon as I think about Hugo's old french men involved in a happy ending.





	Stars reflected by sunlight

As Valjean entered their shared rooms in the Rue Plumet and found them without any sign of Javert’s presence, except for a cup of tea that had been left on top of a newspaper on their living-room table, he was flustered by the sudden silence. 

To his ears it was a sharp contrast compared to the noises he’d been surrounded by this afternoon, Cosette’s laughter and the tick-tack of tiny feet running around his legs. It still surprised him how being around his daughter and his grandchildren filled his heart with a light he’d thought long lost in the days of his youth, maybe only ever accessible to him again in another life.

Taking of his coat and hat Valjean proceeded searching for the man whose presence filled his heart with an equal amount of light, although he recognised the light as a very different kind of love than the one he experienced for the young family living in the Pontmercy household.  
It took him a short time to look around their little apartment in search for his companion, both of them never being used to living a luxurious life and thus being content with living in modest conditions, and confirmed what he had suspected. The rooms were empty.

As Javert usually didn’t take a walk without speaking to him about it, or at least leaving a note before leaving, Valjean felt his heart miss a beat in fear of losing the man he’d only just found, and scolded himself a fool for worrying as soon as he saw the familiar figure in the garden.  
Opening the door, but not revealing himself yet by stepping through it , he took a rare moment of pleasure simply for his own enjoyment and starred at the man he once had wished to escape from forever, and from whom he now never wished to part again. 

Javert was indeed working in the garden, crouching near a rose tree, his thin fingers gently working their way through blooming flowers and watering the roots from time to time. His face was turned away from Valjean’s view, focusing on the task ahead, his long slick hair, still mostly black despite his age and a bit of grey shining through, slowly coming undone due to his work, some strands already escaping the inspector’s usual strict ponytail and falling in waves on his shoulders. 

To see Javert participating in a task that fulfilled the only purpose of bringing enjoyment and beauty into the world showed him how much the man had changed during the time they’ve spent together. It had been two years since Valjean had convinced Javert to step down from the bridge and into his arms, effectively showing the man the light he’d received years ago by a bishop, who’d been given his own desperate life on parole a purpose again.

Valjean smiled gently at the view of Javert’s figure, illuminated by sunlight, a sharp contrast to the former inspector living in the darkness and hunting criminals in the shadows, only occasionally brightened by cold starlight. 

He started walking towards the man, causing him, who rarely let his guard down out of habit, to look up. Even so, Javert’s sharp ears recognised Valjean’s gentle steps on the grass and he continued with his task until his partner crouched next to him.  
“You returned early. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

“I missed you. The longer I get to live with you, the harder it gets to stay away.”

Javert shook his head but chuckled lightly at Valjean’s confession. “Don’t be ridiculous. I suspect you sent my regards to Madame and Monsieur Pontmercy?” 

“Always at your service. The children asked about you. They miss grand-père Javert. Do you think you might do me the favour of accompanying me the next time?”

Javert pressed his lips together. His frequent refusal to take part in the weekly family dinners after church was a topic that pained Valjean, and he knew of it.  
“Maybe I could arrange it next weekend,” he mumbled and leaned back to look at his partner. “And I told them not to call me that. It’s not proper.”

“Given our relationship it might actually be quite fitting.” He continued quickly as Javert rolled his eyes, “And speaking about not being proper, your hair most certainly isn’t right now.”

Sitting as close to him as he was now, he was able to make out parts of small sticks and leaves that got caught in Javert’s hair. As soon as he’d mentioned it, his companion frowned and started angrily tugging at his hair and pulling harshly at his scalp. Valjean watched him for a moment, then gently leaned forward, “May I?” 

Even after having shared the most intimate moments with each other Valjean took care to never surprise Javert with unexpected touches.  
As the taller man moved in front of him and rested against his lap, comfortably leaning into Valjean’s broad chest, he raised his hands to untie the ribbon that held the ponytail in place. Placing the black silk in the grass next to them, he started with slowly running his fingers through Javert’s hair, loosening knots and tangles on his way down.

As he brushed through his hair, he remembered braiding flower crowns into Cosette’s blonde curls in her youth. His heart skipped a beat at the image of Javert wearing a similar crown, although he knew it was an image for his own mind alone, and one that would never get the approval of his companion. He enjoyed for a few minutes nonetheless.  
Javert sighed against him as he enjoyed the gentle attention his scalp was getting and long lasting tension in his neck turned into warm prickles against his shoulders, slowly running down his spine.

Valjean had finished his task of getting the dirt out of the inspector’s hair for quite some time now, but he wasn’t interrupted by Javert and thus decided to continue, now twirling strands around his fingertips for his own enjoyment.

Valjean was the first to speak and break the comfortable silence, “I have wanted to do that in Montreuil-sur-Mer too. At least sometimes.” He hid his face in Javert’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent. “Touching your hair… Paying attention to it… Helping you relax.”

“But you couldn’t. Not back then,” Javert answered in a breathless whisper. “It would have been too dangerous to let me near you, Monsieur Le Maire.”

“Doesn’t mean that I never wished to.” Valjean sighed. “I thought about it, usually while listening to you giving your evening report in my office. I thought about helping my stern inspector relax for a little while after a long day of patrolling the town to keep us safe.”

Javert snorted at the cheesiness but they both knew that Javert wouldn’t have refused his touch. Their mutual attraction as Mayor and Inspector of Montreuil-sur-Mer had been a frequent topic at the beginning of their relationship, though they both tried not to mourn a time and possibilities long gone.

Taking the ribbon and placing it in Valjean’s palm, Javert brushed his hair back, causing it to fall in waves over his shoulders. Understanding the silent plea, he bound the now slick and shining hair into the usual strict ponytail and accepted Javert’s gratitude for his help.

“I’ve been thinking about cutting it for a while now,” the Inspector pointed out and shrugged. “It’s been getting in my way a lot more and I … I think that a change in my looks might reflect the change that happened inside me ever since you opened your home to me.”

Valjean starred at the shining hair and felt a wave of sorrow passing through him as he imagined it gone.  
“I can’t picture you with different hair. I believe I’ve never seen you with short hair before.”

“I had it trimmed the very first years … at Toulon.”

It still surprised Valjean that they were able to talk about that time, if only briefly and always with a melancholy sound in their voices. It had taken them a long time to even mention that place. Valjean regretted how they had first brought up the place during an argument that caused both of them to flinch and avoid each other for several days afterwards.

“I can’t remember”, he whispered, face close to Javert’s neck and breathing against his shoulder blades. “But if it would be important to you, I could do it for you, or we could go to a barber tomorrow afternoon to have it cut.”

Valjean raised his head, his hands brushing Javert’s shoulders as the taller man turned around to face him, his lips turned into a familiar smirk. “But I guess you wouldn’t like that, would you mon Jean?”

He blushed at the endearment and the fact that Javert had no difficulty in reading his thoughts and emotions.  
“It doesn’t matter. I want you to feel comfortable, and should you wish to change your appearance because it has a symbolic value to you, I will not stand in your way.”

He watched as Javert frowned at his words and continued in an assuring voice, “But you should understand that you don’t have to change for me. You know that I am beyond grateful that we found each other and I often call it a miracle, but that’s because I know and value your past. You’ve changed, but so have I. We've changed each other.”

He smiled at his companion and gently touched his cheek. “I didn’t solely fell in love with the man you are right now. I fell in love with the tall inspector with the stern faces walking under the stars, the man I found bound at the barricade and the man who protested as I tried to feed him soup while he was too weak to eat for himself.”

Javert looked as though he wanted to argue at that, so Valjean hushed him.  
“You will never have to earn my love. I love you as the man you are today and as the man you’ve been.”

At this Javert lunged forward and pressed their lips together.

“I love you too, mon Jean,” he whispered against Valjean’s mouth. “But you are a very stubborn man, making a speech like that. You could have just asked me to keep my hair long, if you are that obsessed by it. I will gladly do so.” 

Seeing the smirk that accompanied the words, Valjean decided against protesting and got up, careful not to burden his weak knee with his weight, and helping Javert up.

Not letting go of his hand, he turned towards the house and leaned his head back to take a proper look at his significant other. 

“The sun’s about to go down and it’s getting cold outside. We should probably get inside to get warm.”

Javert smiled at him, one of his rare, genuine smile, and tugged at his hand. “I believe we’ll think of a way to keep us warm.”

Once inside and closing the door, alone as Javert was occupied putting on the fireplace, Valjean took one last look at the dawning sky before joining him.  
In this moment of enjoyment, watching the wold outside in a suspense between day and night, he realised that the stars in the darkness shone even brighter after being faced with the contrast of their counterpart, the light of the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> As English isn't my first language and I just started writing fanfictions, I would love to receive reviews.


End file.
